


A New Start

by imtoolazytothinkofausername



Series: A New Start [1]
Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26115493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imtoolazytothinkofausername/pseuds/imtoolazytothinkofausername
Summary: Alex runs into a familiar face on a mission and is offered a choice.
Relationships: Yassen Gregorovich & Alex Rider
Series: A New Start [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896277
Comments: 4
Kudos: 96





	A New Start

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Alex Rider and all characters associated with the series belong to Anthony Horowitz. I’m not writing this for profit. I’m also not entirely sure where I’m going with this. I just have ideas for an au based off a Tumblr post I read a while ago, and I’m going to write scenes I have and hope I can flesh it out as I go along. Disregards Never Say Die.

The warehouse in which Alex was currently imprisoned reminded him of the type you see in movies, the type where prisoners of the mafia were brought to be tortured. He was sure that if he could somehow work his way free from the ropes binding him to the chair and make it past the guards outside, he’d see nothing but acres of fields and woods. No one around to hear him scream. 

He _hadn’t_ been tortured yet. Peterson’s guards had roughed him up (although to be fair he’d roughed some of them up, too), but when he’d woken up, it had been in one piece. Connor Peterson was a restaurant owner in his early 30s. He was one of the richest people in the world. He was also, as MI6 had suspected and Alex had been able to confirm, head of drug cartel that supplied any type of drug one could think of to only the wealthiest people of the world. 

Peterson sat in a wooden chair in front of Alex. He leaned forward, elbow resting on the arms of chair, chin in his hands. One finger tapped the side of his cheek, and one foot jiggled nervously. He was clearly annoyed at the way their interview was going. “I'm a business man, Samuel. I have nieces and nephews and even a godson. I have no interest in hurting children. Why don’t you tell me who you are and why you were in my lab. Then we can work something out.” 

Samuel Pitts was the name Alex had used to obtain an internship at one of Peterson’s restaurants. 

“You own five Michelin star restaurants. You’re one of the richest men in the world. What are you doing selling drugs?” Alex asked. He didn’t really care. With men like Peterson, it was always about the money or the power. But as long as they were talking, Peterson was less likely to notice Alex fiddling with the ropes. 

Peterson shrugged. “When you cater to the very wealthy, you meet a lot of powerful people. You quickly learn that the more you can provide for them, the more influence you hold over them and, of course, their money. But we’re running out of time, Samuel. My associate will be here soon. If you answer my questions before he gets here, I’ll untie you and we can work something out. You couldn’t have broken into my lab on your own, and I don’t believe a child would be quite so interested in my drug operation. Someone must have put you up to this. Whoever did so does not have your best interest at heart. If you tell me who is using you, I can help you. However, once my associate arrives...” 

Peterson had been referencing this “associate” for the past half hour. Alex hadn’t seen any evidence of a partner, but men like Peterson always had contacts. People to do the dirty work. Well, if the associate turned out to be more than Alex could handle, Alex could always spill the beans then. But the way he saw it, as long as Peterson wasn’t hurting him, the time spent waiting was just an opportunity to work his way loose from his bonds. He had managed to get one hand loose. It wouldn’t be hard to get the other loose. Only a few more moments... 

“He is not a nice man.” Peterson continued after a moment of silence. He seemed to give a genuine shudder, and his eyes flicked to the door and back. “I wonder sometimes why I employ him. But then this world can be so dangerous, and one needs those types of people sometimes.” 

“He sounds like an unsavory character.” Alex replied. 

Peterson gave a small chuckle after a moment. “Yes. I suppose so. What you might call a bad egg. Still, he is useful. Of course, I would never want a child exposed to a man like that, so if you just-” There was the sound of tires on gravel outside, and Peterson gave a rueful grin. “Time’s up. I suggest you tell me who you are now.” 

A moment later the door opened just as Alex freed his other hand from the rope. 

Alex would be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised to see Yassen Gregorovich walk into the room. The same lithe body. The same short-cropped blonde hair. And the same eyes which resembled flecks of ice. Alex had last seen the man lying still, skin impossibly pale from the loss of blood. Yassen had been dead. That was something Alex had been certain of. Seeing him now shook Alex more than he cared to admit. But the events of the past year...the loss of Jack...Alex had reached a point where he didn’t show much of a reaction to anything anymore. Alex wondered if he was hallucinating; Peterson’s guards hadn’t been exactly gentle, and he had received at least one blow to the head. Considering the fact that Peterson was unlikely to let Alex live, though, Alex decided it didn’t matter.

Yassen met Alex’s gaze with a cool detachment. He locked the door behind him and then approached his employer. “Mr. Peterson.” He greeted. 

“You look pretty good. Considering you were dead last time I saw you.” Alex’s tone was slightly more bitter than Alex had intended, but maybe that wasn’t surprising. 

Almost everything that had gone wrong in Alex’s life since his uncle’s death had been because of Yassen. Yassen had killed Ian. Because of Ian’s death, Alex had become little more than a pawn for MI6. In the span of a few years, Alex had been shot, kidnapped, tortured, and watched people die...watched Jack die. The man in front of him had sent Alex to a terrorist organization. It was true that Yassen had believed Alex’s father had been one of their most valuable agents, that Scorpia would welcome Alex with open arms. But the fact remained that if Yassen hadn’t sent Alex to Scorpia, Alex would have barely been a blip on their radar. 

Or, then again, maybe not. By that time, Alex had already ruined at least one of their plans. Perhaps they would have sought revenge, or perhaps he would have stumbled upon them in a different way. Maybe Yassen had just hastened that eventuality. Then, of course, Yassen had died for Alex... 

Even looking at Yassen now, seeing the man alive, with no obvious injuries, and not even looking a day older, Alex couldn't quite believe it was an act. There had been too much blood. Yassen couldn’t have predicted what would happen, and the way Yassen had spoken to him then...about John Rider...Alex had no doubt that Yassen had at least believed himself to be dying. How the man survived... 

Yassen shrugged. “Obviously I wasn’t.” 

“Ah, Mr. Gregorovich.” Peterson said. There was a small grin on his face, but also a hint of confusion in his eyes. Alex reflected that Peterson seemed genuinely ignorant of Alex’s true identity. If Peterson’s statements could be believed, the idea that Alex could possibly be a spy in his own right had never occurred to the man. He was no doubt wondering how an assassin could possibly know a British school boy. “I see you’ve already met our young guest.” 

Yassen gave a barely perceptible nod. 

“Samuel, or whatever his name is, will be-” 

“You were shot in the heart.” 

Peterson glanced at Alex, clearly annoyed. The drug lord wasn’t a man used to interruptions. “Samuel is employed as an intern at one of my restaurants, but somehow he made his way into my laboratory. I believe-” 

“In the chest. Not the heart.” Yassen answered as though his employer wasn’t there. “When I woke up-” 

“Now, Mr. Gregorovich, I-” 

Before Alex could even turn to look at Peterson, Yassen had closed what distance there was left between himself and his employer, wrapped an arm around Peterson’s neck, and gave Person’s head a sudden twist. There was a sickening crack, and then Peterson slumped in his seat. As Alex gaped, Yassen pulled Peterson’s corpse from the seat and took his place. 

“...what the hell did you do that for?!?” Alex exclaimed, jumping out of his seat, looking at the dead man’s sightless eyes, then at Yassen, and then turning his gaze back to Peterson. Peterson’s face still wore its annoyed expression. Peterson simply hadn’t had time to process what was happening before Yassen had broken his neck. 

“He was interrupting our conversation.” Yassen seemed nonplussed by Alex’s reaction. “I’m sorry, little Alex. Were you fond of him?” 

“No, but...but he was your employer!” 

“I wasn’t overly fond of him either. He was a means to an end.” 

Alex turned back to Yassen, tensing. “An end? What end? If Scorpia-” 

“I’m no longer working for Scorpia, Alex. As a matter of fact, I seldom work for anyone anymore.” 

“I’m not surprised if that’s how you treat your employers. I wouldn’t-” 

Yassen’s lips twitched. “I’ve made enough money that I was able to retire.” 

Alex stared at him for a long moment. When he thought of retirement, he thought of endless days playing golf and relaxing on a beach. Maybe it was that he knew what Yassen was capable of, but Alex couldn’t picture him doing either of these things. “I...I didn’t know assassins _did_ retire,” was all he could think to say. 

This time Yassen gave a bittersweet smile. “Most don’t. Most die. Why don’t you sit back down? We have much to talk about.” 

Alex thought about the wisdom of this. He had no idea how much Yassen knew about Scorpia and about Alex’s father. Yassen had never tried to kill him, but Alex wasn’t sure he could think of the man as an ally. Still, it wasn’t as if Alex could make a run for the door, and he did want to find out how Yassen was alive. In the end, Alex took his seat, pulling it slightly back and away from the corpse. “How did you survive? You were shot in chest. You were bleeding out. There was so much blood...” 

“Cray missed my heart. Not by much, but by enough. The last thing I remember before I passed out was telling you about your father. After the plane, I woke up in the hospital wing of a prison in Gibraltar. MI6 believed that I could be useful to them if I were kept alive. Eventually I escaped. I had enough money stashed around to retire, so I did. All in all, not a bad end to a career.” 

"Only it wasn’t the end, was it? You’re here, after all.” 

“Yes, well, I started to hear rumors, little Alex.” Yassen leaned forward, his face serious. “About Scorpia, about a fight ring, about a plague, and about a teenage boy who put a stop to each of these.” 

“About Scorpia-” 

“I don’t care about Scorpia.” Yassen interrupted, dismissing Alex’s statement with a wave of his hand. “I know what they did. To your father, and to you. I’m glad you crippled them.” 

“And do you know about my father?” Alex looked at Yassen, careful to keep his voice neutral. When last the teenager had spoken to the other man, Yassen had believed John Rider to be an assassin, another victim of MI6. Alex knew that this was likely the only reason that Yassen had saved Alex’s life, almost giving his life to save Alex. But how would the man react if he knew that he’d taken a bullet for the child of a man who had lied to him? 

Yassen looked at the floor. “I know now that he was an MI6 agent and that Scorpia killed him for his betrayal.” He rose his eyes again to meet Alex’s. “I didn’t know it when I sent you to Scorpia. I wouldn't have sent you had I known. But regardless of who John Rider worked for, it doesn’t matter. Your father and I...” Yassen swallowed. “We were many things to each other, and he saved my life. There are many questions I wish I could ask him. Things I wonder about...” Yassen trailed off, eyes going distant. Then he shook his head. “But regardless, my loyalty is to him and his memory, not to Scorpia. And that, Alex, is why I’m here. I wanted to talk to you.” 

“You knew this would happen? That Peterson,” Alex tilted his head toward the corpse, “would kidnap me?” 

Not exactly. I knew that MI6 had grown suspicious of him, and I knew it was only a matter of time before they sent you in. His internship program was too good of a chance for them to pass up. So, I accepted a job as something of a guard and waited.” 

“You could have just called.” 

“No.” Yassen shook his head vehemently. “Your phones are tapped, and you’re watched while you are at home. It would have taken a great amount of effort to simply say a few words to you unobserved. Easier to speak to you in the field. And now we have more time.” 

Alex hadn’t known that MI6 had him under the type of surveillance that Yassen had described, but it didn’t surprise him either. He remembered after Point Blanc when John Crawley and Mrs. Jones had shown up shortly after Jack had left on some errand and how John Crawley had known his way around the kitchen. He felt a surge of the same helpless anger he always felt when he found out about one more instance of MI6 intruding in his life. He could confront them. Maybe they’d deny it, maybe not. They’d probably say it was for his safety, and that would partially be true. But even if Alex demanded that they put a halt to spying on him, the surveillance wouldn’t stop. It never would. 

“So, what do you want to talk about? If it’s information you want, I’m afraid MI6 doesn’t tell me much besides what I need to know.” 

“I want to ask you why you’re still doing this. I’ve learned about the details of your missions. You’ve fallen behind in school because of your extracurricular activities. You have more scars than I have, and I’ve been in this business for over a decade. And you’ve lost-” 

“It’s not like I have a choice!” Alex snapped. He didn’t need to hear about all he’d lost. He’d lost Ian because of the man in front of him. He’d lost his childhood to MI6. He’d lost just about any chance at a friendship with someone other than Tom. And Jack... “MI6 owns me. Do you understand that? They give me orders, and I need to follow them.” 

“Why don’t you quit?” Yassen asked, as if he thought this was a perfectly reasonable option. 

“I can’t. Technically, I’m not employed. Apparently, I’m ‘too young’ for that.” Alex gave a humorless chuckle. 

“But you're not too young to get shot at and almost killed?” 

“Exactly. If I say no, they find a way to make me go anyway. At first it was Jack. They threatened to deport her and send me to an orphanage. Then I got into trouble with the police, and they said that it would all go away if I just did what they asked. And then they got me in trouble with the Triads, but somehow they could only protect me if I went undercover....” He sighed and let his shoulders slump. “There’s always something, and there always will be something.” 

Yassen’s only change in expression was a furrowed brow, but somehow Alex knew he was troubled. “I see...but you don’t want this life?” 

“Who the hell would want this life? Never knowing if you’re going to die or who you’re going to lose next? Knowing that you’ll never be able to...” Alex stopped. It wasn’t as if ranting would do him any good. “No, Yassen. I’ve never wanted this. But that doesn’t matter, does it?” 

Yassen shrugged. “And if there was a way out?” 

“There’s no-” 

“I can offer you a way out.”

Alex stared at the assassin, unable to comprehend what he was hearing. How could there possibly be a way out? Was this an attempt to get Alex to change one side for another?

“It wouldn’t be easy, and you’d need to leave everything behind, and I mean everything. You’d need to leave with the clothes on your back, maybe a few belongings, and little else. You’d need to stay inside for a while, away from any cameras and eyes. You would never be able to go back without the risk of being pulled back in. In a sense, you’d need to say goodbye to Alex Rider and take on a completely new identity. But...it could be done.”

“I don’t...I don’t understand.” He knew what Yassen was saying, but it didn’t make sense to him that Yassen was offering him this or that it was even possible. 

“You can get out of this life, Alex.” Yassen explained patiently. “Or at least as much as anyone who goes into hiding can. You’d need to be careful. You’d always need to look over your shoulder. I can’t promise you that there wouldn’t come a day when MI6 or someone else finds you. And it wouldn’t be the life of a teenager. But it would be as close to normal as you can get without MI6 letting you go.” 

“I don’t understand.” Alex said again. “Why are you offering me this?” 

The ice blue eyes seemed to soften for a moment, and Alex thought there was a trace of sadness in them. “Because it’s not too late for you. Because you’re a child and never should have been forced into this.” Yassen paused as if he wasn’t sure if he should continue. Then, “And because your father never would have wanted this life for you.” 

Alex was surprised to feel a lump in his throat. He wondered if what Yassen said was true. Almost everything he knew about his father was from someone he couldn’t trust. Ian had barely told Alex anything about his parents, but Alex knew that most of that was at least partially false. Alan Blunt and Mrs. Jones had told him what a true patriot his father had been, but could he really believe anything they said? And Ash...Alex got a sour taste in his mouth whenever he thought of the man. Alex supposed he couldn’t truly trust Yassen. Part of him realized that he had no way of knowing just how much of the real John Rider Yassen had known. But Alex wanted to believe that his father wouldn’t have wanted this life for him. He wanted to believe that John Rider would never have let Alan Blunt have his son. And it was obvious that Yassen believed he was telling the truth. 

It occurred to Alex that if he went with Yassen, he’d have the chance to ask the assassin more about his father. Something told Alex that Yassen wouldn’t mind talking about John, not like Ian or Ash had. But could Alex trust Yassen with his life? It made Alex uncomfortable to realize that he wasn’t sure. Yassen had saved his life several times, yet he’d also hurt Alex. And he’d sent Alex to Scorpia, even if that had been a misunderstanding. But on the whole, Alex thought, Yassen had always been honest with him. God knew he’d treated Alex better than Alan Blunt or Mrs. Jones ever had. 

Alex knew that he’d die if he stayed with MI6. He’d watch his friends and loved ones die, and when he finally had nothing left, he himself would die. Even if there came a point where Mrs. Jones promised to never use him again, Alex knew that he would never be able to trust her, and that if that time came, it would be because Alex was too broken to be of any use to her. If Alex went with Yassen, maybe, just maybe Alex could have something approximating a normal life. 

Alex took a deep shuddering breath and realized that Yassen was still waiting for him to say something. The man didn’t seem to be surprised that Alex hadn’t answered. He seemed to realize that Alex would need time to think. Finally, Alex opened his mouth and asked one question. “How?” 


End file.
